


Shattered

by acclaimedwriter



Category: Casualty (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acclaimedwriter/pseuds/acclaimedwriter
Summary: She’d been so confident that she had this under control but today, it went wrong. Today Duffy realised she was fighting a losing battle. A battle she would never win.
Relationships: Lisa "Duffy" Duffin/Charlie Fairhead
Kudos: 5





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Extended scene to S33, E44

When Duffy got home, the first thing she did was chuck down the box she carried; the pieces of her career. The memories she’d eventually forget. She threw the box onto the sofa, harder than she intended too. The box bouncing and ending on its side, the contents spilling out onto the sofa. As she stared at the contents, the small items that, at one point in her career meant something to her, she felt her heart breaking and burst into tears once again.

She’d been so adamant, so confident that dementia wasn’t going to be in control of her life. She’d been so confident that she had this under control but today, it went wrong. Today Duffy realised she was fighting a losing battle. A battle she would never win.

She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Not having the energy to even sort through her belongings and putting them back in the box, she left the living room and removed her shoes and coat.

Duffy didn’t feel anything. Whilst she was able to cry, her body and mind felt numb. Searching through the cupboards, twice because she forgot which one contained the alcohol, she found Charlie’s bottle of whiskey and picked it up. Then she went upstairs to the bedroom.

Sitting cross legged on the bed, she stared at the bottle of whiskey, her fingertips running up and down the edge of the bottle. She didn’t know why she’d chosen whiskey. She hated the stuff, it always burnt her throat. Sighing, she unscrewed the lid and took a large mouthful.

As the liquid worked its way down her throat, she coughed slightly but found herself enjoying the slight burn. She continued to drink the whiskey through her tears, the tears cascading down her face. 

She didn’t even hear the door or Charlie’s footsteps on the stairs. She’d drank about half the bottle before she allowed it to drop from her grasp and shatter against the wooden flooring. That was how she was feeling. Broken and unrepairable.

Charlie jumped when he heard the sound of smashing glass and bolted through the bedroom door. A broken bottle which looked like his whiskey, lay at the foot of the bed. Duffy curled up in the middle of the bed in a ball, the pillow tightly to her chest.

“Duffy?” He called out. His heart sank as he heard her cry harder in response to hearing his voice. Torn between tidying the broken glass or joining her on the bed, he chose the latter. He climbed onto the bed and lay in front of her.

Charlie didn’t speak. For once in his life he didn’t have the words. He wasn’t sure what to say to comfort his wife. Duffy didn’t move. She stayed in the foetal position, the pillow still close to her chest.

Charlie listened as Duffy’s sobs slowed down before they intensified again. He reached out and touched her cheek.

“Please don’t cry.” He said quietly, in a desperate attempt to get her to stop crying. She lifted her head up from the pillow and met Charlie’s gaze. Her bright green eyes that often sparkled were dull, her eyes red from crying and the mascara down her cheeks.

Charlie felt his heart shatter.

His thumb brushed away a fresh tear that trailed down her cheek. Again, he wasn’t sure of what to say. It was clear Duffy was struggling. He was struggling too because he couldn’t fix her.

“This is all my fault.” She whispered, the pain noticeable in her voice.

“You don’t know that.”

She smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes I do. I’m too blame. I’m the reason she’s in the coma. I think I gave her the wrong injection…”

Duffy trailed off as she buried her head back into the pillow. Not even a second later, she began to sob again. Charlie closed his eyes. It hurt every time his wife cried and he couldn’t stop her. He hated the fact he couldn’t take away her fears. He couldn’t reassure her she wasn’t to blame because he didn’t know.

“I know what… you think.”

“No you don’t.”

“You think… I… was to blame.” She choked out. She could handle the doubt if it was from anyone other than her husband. Duffy needed Charlie’s support more than anything. She couldn’t do this alone.

“I don’t blame you but Connie…”

“Why don’t you…fuck off to her then?” The words surprised Duffy more than they did Charlie. Charlie sighed. Mood swings…

“Duffy?”

“Leave me alone.” She mumbled and for a second, she sounded scared. She sounded broken. He went to touch her cheek again but she moved her position, her back now facing Charlie.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he carefully anticipated his next move. The last thing he wanted was them to have a blazing row. He was tired and he judged, by the looks and sound of things, she was too. Charlie tried to move closer to Duffy but the more he moved closer, the more she moved further away, once again keeping the barrier between them.

“Why are you still here?” It was spoken around five minutes after Duffy had finished crying. The pillow remained on her chest.

“Where else would I be?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Collaborating with Connie over my guilt.”

Charlie sighed heavily. “You really believe I think you’re guilty, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everyone? I see it in your eyes. I know there’s a flicker of doubt.” She paused, “I’m not the woman you fell in love with. She’s long gone, Charlie.”

He shook his head and moved. He climbed over her, just as she muttered what the hell. Charlie lay on his side and faced his wife, whose face was no longer obscured by the pillow. He reached out to touch her cheek.

“I don’t know what to think.” He admitted, “but I need you to tell me everything you remember.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. Duffy wasn’t sure she could recall in the correct order. Connie had planted a very small seed in her head and it had escalated. It grew, it slithered its way into her and drowned her confidence. It made the voice in the back of her head grow until it was all she could hear.

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Why?”

“I…” she reopened her eyes and met Charlie’s eye again.

“What do you remember? Tell me.”

Duffy swallowed hard. She remembered double, if not, triple checking everything with everyone. She was having a good day. Her confidence had grown. She knew she needed to be careful.

“Connie said the syringes were labelled but…” She bit her lower lip hard, nervously chewing the skin on her lips.

Charlie wasn’t sure whether he should interrupt and ask a question or allow her to continue talking. A few minutes passed before Duffy spoke again.

“I’m 90% certain they weren’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Duffy nodded, “do you believe me?”

All of this was pointless if Charlie didn’t believe in her. Duffy didn’t have enough fight to do it all alone. She held his gaze as Charlie shifted his body closer to her, moved his thumb to her lower lip and ran it over her lip.

“I believe you.” He replied back before he captured her lips with his. Feeling Charlie’s lips on hers, Duffy began to cry again burying her head into Charlie’s chest. His arms wrapped around her, one hand gently rubbing her back as she cried herself to sleep. Her hand clutched his shirt tightly, unable to bring herself to let go in the fear he’d leave her.

Charlie sighed. He had no idea on how to fix her broken pieces and make her happy again.


End file.
